Standing at the Crossroads
by ALC Punk
Summary: LYDB insert. KaraAnders. This time, Sam doesn't think she'll come back to him. And he's not really sure how to stop her.


Disclaimer: not mine. Rating: er... 13+. very little sex.  
Pairing: Kara Thrace/Sam Anders Set: LYDB2, spoilers contained, la.  
Genre: er. angst, fluff.  
Notes: my thanks to karmaaster for a few of the lines in here. I have no clue what this is. Sorry.  
Length: 1,000+ 

**Standing at the crossroads**  
by ALC Punk!

Their fourth fight was Kara's fault. Not that she'd admit it.

According to scuttlebutt Sam heard later, half the ship had heard them yelling. The cafeteria hadn't been the best place to try having a discussion. Even if it had started civilly enough with a comment about New Caprica and his boredom.

"Hey." Anders wandered into the room that had been Lee's office and was now hers. He dropped a kiss on her head and eyed the paperwork on the table. Maybe she wasn't still mad at him.

"Hey."

She refused to look up. Maybe she was.

"Look..." It was awkward. He changed tactics, "You'll get cold without me."

"I did just fine without you before."

Oh. "Kara."

"I asked Gunny if you could train with the marines, see if they could use you."

But she doesn't sound happy about it. "I don't like feeling useless. Back on Caprica, I had something to do: survive. Here, I'm just a loose part."

"Yeah, but you're my loose part."

"It's not enough."

She stood abruptly, "Then just leave. Go down to the surface with the rest of the idiots."

If it hadn't been for the way she wouldn't meet his eyes, Sam might have snapped back at her. Instead he reached out and tugged at the collar of her uniform tunic. "I wouldn't be useful down there, either."

"Yeah, well, maybe it would just be better."

"Better how?"

"Better. I wouldn't have to worry--" She cut herself off and knocked his hand away. "I have to go see the Chief."

"Kara, wait." When she didn't, he followed her to door and asked, "Are you dumping me?"

She stopped. "That's what it sounds like, Anders."

Back to his last name. He swallowed, "Kara--"

"I've got to talk to the Chief." Then she was walking again, faster.

He let her walk away, once before. Okay, so, technically, he made her leave and complete her mission. But it still took her six months to come back to him. And Sam Anders didn't think it would work, this time. Six months down the road, she'd be frakking someone else. Probably wouldn't even remember him.

"Kara, wait."

When she didn't stop, he tossed his dignity to the side and ran after her, catching up just before the corner. "Look at me, and tell me you..." Nothing he could think of to say sounded right. "I love you."

"Don't."

He slumped and stepped back from her. "All right. I guess. I guess I'll see you around."

"Yeah." Her voice said he wouldn't.

-

Sam spent most of the afternoon poking aimlessly in the civilian-designated areas of Galactica. He found himself feeling at a loss. On Caprica, there had been purpose. In the early days, he'd thought there would be purpose. But then the enforced settlement had been decreed and there was no longer any use for a pyramid-player-turned-terrorist. Most of the marines seemed to laugh at him behind his back, anyway.

It wasn't until he was climbing into the rack they'd been sharing that he realized that it was still their bed. Feeling vaguely spiteful, he decided he didn't care. If she wanted her own bed, she could damned well go find a new one on her own.

He woke up when she crawled into bed with him, smelling of cigars and ambrosia. "Hey."

"Bed's lumpy." She poked him and froze. "Sam."

"Get your own bed," he informed her sleepily.

"Like this one."

"I thought you didn't want to see me again."

"Can't see you. 'S dark." She announced loftily before burrowing down under the covers and shoving her cold feet against his legs. "'M cold."

"Told you." He muttered, but he tugged her closer and let her curl into his chest.

She was snoring before he could really consider what a bad idea it was.

-

Sam wasn't sure what woke him. Then Kara poked him again, mumbling under her breath. A dream, he realized. Someone had flipped the lights on, and some seeped through the half-closed curtains. Or maybe a nightmare. "Kara."

"Don't send me back."

"Kara." He jostled her shoulder. "C'mon, Kara, it's a dream. You're on Galactica. You're safe."

"Not safe. No one's safe."

So he kissed her. Which was rather like kissing a dead rat. "Ugh. What the frak were you drinking?"

"Sam?" She stared at him, then made a face. "Frak."

Moving faster than her just-awake state should have allowed, she rolled away from him and out of the rack. Guessing the cause, Sam went after her, catching her as she left the room. He wrapped an arm around her to steady the somewhat erratic stride and steered her into the nearest head.

Where she promptly lost everything she'd drunk and eaten in one of the stalls. He considerately held her hair back, absently noting that it was longer than he'd ever seen it. And kind of hot, too.

Kara puking, however, wasn't hot.

When she was finished, he steered her to the sinks and found someone's left out tube of paste to rinse the taste with.

"Better?"

"Yeah."

"So, why?"

"Why what?"

"Did you decide to break up with me?"

Hey, it was three in the morning. He figured he was owed some sort of answer.

"I'm not good for you." She said it calmly, precisely. As though she were repeating something she'd heard said about her over and over again. "I'm a frak-up, Sam. And I'll just bring you down with me."

"You're full of shit."

"What?"

"You heard me." He was angry, suddenly. "You're not a frak-up, unless you want to be. You got the damned arrow and brought it back. You came back for us, and got us here safe."

"Maybe those were flukes."

He snorted, "No. I know what it is. You're afraid."

"I am not afraid."

"You're afraid," he repeated. "You, Starbuck, are afraid because you can't predict what's going to happen to us in a year's time. In ten year's time."

"That's stupid."

"So? It doesn't make me any less right."

"You're in love with a frakkin' idiot, Sam. And you are not right."

"Glad you remembered that first part."

She threw up her hands. "Why am I even arguing? I said--"

"And then you crawled into my rack and cuddled. If that's dumping me, Kara, you've got a hell of a lot to learn."

"Oh, frak you!"

He laughed, unable to help himself.

So she hit him. He didn't have time to stop the blow, and she connected with his mouth, snapping his head back.

"Shit. Sam." Her hands grabbed his arms, steadying him. "I'm sorry. Gods. Stupid. I'm so frakking--"

Moving faster than her punch, Sam caught her chin and kissed her. Bleeding lip and all. "Shut. Up." He muttered.

"Hey." She pulled away and leaned her forehead against his. "I..."

"It's too early in the morning for this crap, Kara." But he didn't let her go.

"So we should go back to bed."

"Yes."

"All right." She was suddenly smirking.

Sam eyed her, recognizing the gleam in her eyes, "Kara, Showboat and half a dozen other pilots are asleep in there."

"So?"

He groaned as she tugged him out the door. "So we'll have to be really quiet."

"I can be quiet."

"No you can't."

"Can."

"Can't."

"Can."

Sam shoved her through the curtains and stopped to yank his pants off. "Kara, you can't."

"Watch me."

To her credit, she did try to be quiet. But Sam had to dodge several knowing smirks in the morning.

-f


End file.
